in terms of a cyclops: it's one extreme
   or another...
   a cyclops can never be cross-eyed,
it can never be blurry for him -
  even when the tip-of-the-nose
   is just that,
                        having two eyes
   is enough to see two sides of
an argument with the precision
    of aquatic optics - blurry today,
blurry tomorrow -
         nibble the left,
                     nibble the right...
then centralised: or Newtonian -
the unlearning of gravity
           for the purpose of learning
   selective magnetism and a stitched-up
   smile.

Day follows night,

Follows fear,

Follows fright,

Follows you,

Follows right,

Fear the day,

Dread the night.

Since when did a number define our importance?

The number of likes on a photo, the number of retweets on a tweet or even the number of followers you have.

All of these mean nothing in the grand scheme of things but to people today these numbers define who we are as if they tell us our self-worth.

We are a society addicted to technology and are constantly trying to prove to others that we are cool or trying to fit in.

Do not let a number define you. Enjoy who you are and be what you want to be. You do not need a screen or an app to tell you what you or who you should be.

Numbers don't define you. You define yourself.

Polished and refined,
With death I have found
A life below ground
A place I can call mine
Destruction and evil deeds
A breeding of pure hate
Is all that I can create
Out of all these heartless seeds

I punch them in
To the deep sullen dirt
Water them with vengeance
And a sprinkling of hurt
Tonight is the night
I find what dwells below
I don't have a key
But I can bargain with my soul
As I place it into these seeds
I am but reeds in the grass
I'm letting go
Only Heaven knows
The blackness of Hell's wrath

I plant my lifeless soul in this plot
To groom it as it grows
So slowly that nobody knows
It's the place the devil goes to rot
Watered with tears, warmed with fire
And as time stands still, never changing
This fruition of evil continues growing
Until the depths of hell can go no higher

Then it will bloom
A flowering gloom
Growing out of control
The ground will harden
In this here garden
Fertilized by my soul